


The Cat

by Drvivc



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Domestic Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Ficlet, Fluffy Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, M/M, Post-Watford (Simon Snow), Protective Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Sascha - Freeform, Skelkie, SnowBaz, Snowbaz got a Cat, tw anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 05:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16592030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drvivc/pseuds/Drvivc
Summary: In which Simon has a magickal emotional support cat.





	The Cat

**Author's Note:**

> Every now and then, particularly if I'm having an anxiety day, my cat will surprise me by climbing up my leg and perching on my shoulder. Usually in the back yard, then I stand there, surveying the area, with a cat on my shoulder and I kind of feel like a bad ass pirate queen. Weird, I know. I got to thinking about, Simon and Baz having a cat, but not an ordinary cat, and I came up with this little ficlet.

**Simon**

Today is a bad day for my anxiety. I feel like I’m crawling out of my skin. I can’t just chill. I probably shouldn’t have drunk that third cup of coffee either, it’s not exactly helping.

What the fuck am I even doing here? What does Baz even see in me? I’m a normal freak with wings and a tail. I can barely defend myself in a bar fight, much less against anything more powerful than a snow devil.

Baz is off at that genteel economics school with all those smarter, posher blokes. He’s definitely better off with one of them. There’d be a much brighter future in store for him than muddling around with my useless self.

I’m in the bathroom, having my existential crisis. I place my hands on the counter and stare at myself in the mirror. I need a haircut, the shaggy curls are nearing my eyes. Baz practically cries real tears when I cut it, he prefers it longer. It’s softer now, my hair, since Baz convinced me to use his fancy hair products.

I don’t even know who I AM anymore. Baz’s sad project?

I lean forward, resting my forehead on the glass. To my right I hear a pop, like a champagne cork expulsion and Sascha appears out of thin air onto the counter beside me. He airily licks his paw, glancing at me with practiced nonchalance.

Fucking cat scares the shit out of me every time it does that.

Silently, with the grace gifted only to the feline species, Sascha leaps off the counter and begins weaving between my legs. He’s purring like an American muscle car.

Baz insisted on this particular breed of cat: the Romanian Forest Cat or some such nonsense. It mostly looks like a regular Siamese cat, only it fucking teleports.

One minute you’re minding your own business, taking a piss. Next thing you know, a cat pops in out of nowhere and stares at you haughtily from the top of the toilet.

It’s fucking terrifying.

The cat looks up at me, nearly iridescent jet-purple eyes half closed, still purring away. He lovingly stands up, placing his paws on my leg so I can pet his sleek sable face.

Then the tosser digs his claws into my jeans (and leg) and proceeds to climb up my body like I’m a tree and comes to rest on my shoulder.

For snakes sake! It fucking hurts, but Sascha turns up his purr, til it feels like it’s reverberating from the walls and rubs his face on mine.

I look back at the mirror. Crowley, looking at me is a bedraggled man with, red wings at half mast, hair in his eyes with a cat perched on his shoulder.

I look like some kind of deranged pirate demon. I just need an eye patch to complete the effect. I chuckle as Sascha continues to demand attention. He stretches out his neck so I can scratch his chin more effectively, and together we wander to the kitchen to make a sandwich.

A pirate and his cat.

**Baz**

I don’t know why I told him Sascha was a Romanian Forest Cat. I guess I just panicked, I didn’t want Snow to get suspicious. I worry about Simon when I’m away at school, he still has such dark days. More good days than bad now, but the bad ones are rough, and I hate that I can’t be there for him all the time.

So, I came up with the idea of getting us a Skelkie. For all intents and purposes, they are cats: with the exception of their propensity for teleportation, and their unusually high (particularly for a cat) levels of empathy. I figured Sascha could at least distract Simon from his troubles ‘til I get home and distract him in _other_ ways.

Technically Sascha is my cat, but I make Simon empty the litterbox, because it’s fucking disgusting.

**Simon**

I’m sitting at the table, finishing up my sandwich. The cat’s still on my shoulder, munching a piece of ham that I gave him.

I s’pose I need to scoop the cat box. We normally share the household duties, but Baz insists that vampires are highly susceptible to Toxoplasmosis so he can’t come anywhere near cat feces. I’m pretty sure he’s full of shit & just thinks it’s gross, but that’s ok.

I love that man.


End file.
